This week I’ve felt close to breaking point a few times. I had an important orchestral concert and the pressure was on more than usual. My last orchestral job was a month ago. I had a lot of admin work to catch up on from the weekend and, most importantly, those precious hours of practice to fit in around my shifts. It’s great to get to my other job because when I’m there, I just switch my life off and focus on shop work for four hours. That isn’t to say I switch off when I get to work. On the contrary! Learning a new job has sapped my mental and physical energies. My mind changes gear and starts to whirr to a different tune as soon as I leave through the sliding doors and generally, my mood drops as I face the task ahead of me. I realised I have an immense sense of dread about most things, and I’m not looking forward to anything much. Except Easter. I LOVE Easter. What used to feed me (music and playing) isn’t giving me the same nourishment it used to offer as I’m simply not putting the hours in. I used to feel complete when I’d accomplished my minimum of four hours practice a day. These days that’s not viable if I want to survive, and I’m averaging a paltry 2 hours a week. I look at my instrument in its case and my heart sinks. Even uncovered, I feel sad looking at her as I have so much catching up to do. I think about the teaching I’ve got coming up and wonder how I’m going to inspire my students and confidently show them the simplest of examples when I can barely get my hands on from anxiety.

One of my biggest problems is that I have to bounce ideas off myself, and as I poo poo most brainwaves with my negative frame of mind, I soon tire of chasing my tail. I’m f**ked, if I believe myself. I’ve come very close to shutting some doors this week, doors which have caused me a lot of pain. It feels right to keep them ajar until, well, until it feels right for them to be closed indefinitely. If I shared my feelings with most people, they’d tell me to pull myself together, to get over myself and stop being so sensitive, not to take things personally. That comes with being a HSP I think. A lot of the time I feel the whole world is against me. I can’t quite shake that.

After my shift, I managed my departure well. Leaving is always a source of anxiety, this time heightened by the extreme drop in temperatures and yellow snow warnings. The only thing I forgot was my hot water bottle which comes in handy on chilly nights and for easing sore muscles from driving, practicing and life in general.

The 10am rehearsal was fine until we got to one relatively simple piece which had a very exposed accompanying part. The music started to unravel as my ears struggled to grasp for anchors I couldn’t hear. Unconducted, there were no visual cues. We sorted it at the end of the rehearsal but it was a horrible wish-the-floor-would-swallow-me-up moment of feeling inadequate and incompetent that could have been avoided had I not run out of time. My trademarks are my level of preparation and research. They’re very healthy defence mechanisms in my armoury. Without these safety nets, revealing my vulnerability in a room full of top notch musicians was way beyond the realm of my comfort zone. I love a challenge but these days I know my limitations are more restrictive. I’ve been late for my swimming class a few times recently. There’s no better antidote to an inherent lack of confidence than having to walk past our fit teacher and 29 sporty swimmers before jumping in deep. My feeling in the rehearsal was of a similar nature.

Tired after a long day rehearsing, I left my scores at the venue, deciding against my usual tactic of taking my work back to the hotel with me. I needed to switch off that evening. I wanted to go for a walk on the beach 10 minutes away the following morning to recharge my batteries but decided against it – what if I got stuck in snow on the coast? How would I explain that?! I was first into the hall, with the intention of ironing out any issues and to get as comfortable as I could with the gorgeous piece I love so much. I didn’t need long on it, a few moments of indulgent curiosity to explore elements I hadn’t had time to analyse, hear, feel and digest.

In the concert, I simply wasn’t in the zone for that piece. It hadn’t quite settled. The notes didn’t feel like they belonged to me yet. They weren’t a fully integrated part of me. I felt very tense and couldn’t breathe freely. That’s not conducive to great music making. It was fine, but at the very end of the movement in question, I let go. With my release on the final note came an extraneous noise from my instrument, possibly in response to my relief that it had gone well. Mortified by how loud it was during such a soft intimate moment of beauty, I just blanked everything out. In the past, I would have beaten myself up big time. Not anymore. Had the circumstances been ideal, had I been booked for the initial rehearsal on day one, would it have happened? Maybe not. It shouldn’t have happened but what can I do? There’s only so much flagellation I can inflict upon myself!

Unfortunately, it mostly boils down to money. Orchestras everywhere are cutting corners and “extra players” (spare parts?) are often the first to be affected. Some players were only booked for the rehearsal on the day of the concert, so I guess I’m one of the lucky ones in the greater scheme. Because of my personality type, I have to question what my next move will be. I’ve just turned down a patch of work involving a lot of driving. I have some non negotiable clashes in my diary. These help justify my refusal. It’s a relief to have put myself in a position in which I can safely say no. With the reassurance of my regular shop work as security, I know I’ll be able to give my best shot to building my business.

These days I really struggle with an afternoon rehearsal and evening concert followed by the drive home. Friday night was no exception. With the additional factor of adverse weather conditions, it really took a Herculean effort to keep going. The first hour and a half was slow with snow, and then I started to drift, my focus flaking. I reached for a handful of grapes and the burst of fructose worked its magic. 20 minutes later, another handful was consumed but the effect was diminished. I worked my way through half a box in an attempt to remain alert. Off the motorway, 5 minutes from home, I tried to convince myself how light my eyelids felt, pinching my arm and kneading my leg for external stimulation. I had to pull over to check if I could keep going. Imagine the shame and embarrassment if I died of hypothermia minutes from my final destination!

Safely home, my car unburdened, I hugged my cat and my radiator and stared blankly into space as I decided what to do next. I was wired but exhausted. I grasped for anything to help my brain and my body unwind. I felt immobilised with fatigue. I portioned out some chocolate coated almonds and soon worked my way through the whole pack, my tense jaws eased at having something to champ down on.

On Saturday morning, I did something I used to do a lot after a performance. I listened to the piece again and again until I felt satisfied I’d heard it enough. I was still hungry for music. I still wanted more. I have this permanent soundtrack of best bits playing in my mind’s ear.

This lifestyle isn’t sustainable anymore. It took me 2 days to recover from my adventures, 2 days that could have been used more efficiently. The main problem is I didn’t get enough enjoyment from playing. The other piece I was involved in went really well so I’m holding onto that. With the piece that was causing me concern well and truly in the bucket, I was able to reach for my inner extrovert risk-taking show-off performer who wasn’t scared anymore.

So today, I’m pressing pause, or at the very least the rallentando button. I’m feeling how I feel and that’s ok. I’m off for a walk which I wanted to trudge and trample and stomp yesterday but couldn’t face going out. Later I’m cooking myself a healthy hearty dinner. I’m taking care of myself. Everything business related can wait. The most important thing is that I’m ready for a decent productive practice session tomorrow morning. This week I have another big concert but it’s repertoire that I’m extremely familiar with and which I love with pungent passion. I’ll be able to breathe and enjoy the music. Otherwise, what’s the point?

On a recent walk, I threw a pebble into the pond. I watched the mesmeric undulating ripple effect created by its impact with fascination. I feel I’ve thrown 20 pebbles into the water but I’m not feeling the effect. Yet.

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